


don’t fight the light that begs at the cracks

by tigerlo



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, This is pretty much just smut with feelings, allusions to Charity's past, and a bed, and then sex in a cab, dirty dancing in a club, whoops?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: She’s far too old for this nonsense, Charity thinks, the music obnoxiously loud and the smell of almost repulsive desire hanging thickly in the air as the crowd around her heaves.or, Vanessa takes Charity back tothatclub and they have a little fun...





	don’t fight the light that begs at the cracks

**Author's Note:**

> This is terrible and I'm going to hell, but it's fun to try and get inside Charity's head for a bit?
> 
> As per usual, @heartsways and @blurryoz, you're both equally responsible for this in different ways. I thank you both for keeping this ship well-afloat in my messy little brain.
> 
> Enjoy...

-

 

She’s far too old for this nonsense, Charity thinks, the music obnoxiously loud and the smell of almost repulsive desire hanging thickly in the air as the crowd around her heaves. 

 

They’re here for a bit of fun, despite Charity’s initial objection to leaving the house on a mid-winter night, because Vanessa had come through on her promise to take Charity with them - she and the other girls - on their next trip to the club that Charity thought months ago might just have ended them. 

 

Not that they were a  _ them _ , then. 

 

They are now though. They’re a  _ they _ , dancing in a crowd of strangers. It’s ridiculous, and yet against her better judgement, even though she’s too old, Charity is actually having fun. 

 

She’s far too old, yes, her patience too thin, her cynicism sky high and almost choking, but Vanessa’s back is pressed firmly up against her front, her hands holding Charity’s against her hips, grinding like their bloody life depends on it, so it could be worse, couldn’t it. 

 

She should feel ridiculous and out of place because everyone else is about twenty years their junior, but Vanessa’s doing a marvellous job of distracting her from everything bar the fact that she’s about a half second away from sliding her hand up Vanessa’s thigh, right here on the dance floor. 

 

She’s actually not a half-bad dancer, Charity thinks, comparing this with Vanessa’s last performance here, following the rhythm of Vanessa’s hips against her own, or maybe it’s just that she has a body to guide her this time. To push against. She wonders whether Vanessa’s previous attempt hadn’t been to keep people disinterested intentionally. 

 

Vanessa’s hand winding around her neck pulls Charity back into the present, closing around the curve of her skull to pull her down for a kiss that’s indecent in its intensity. She can feel people staring, even in the dim light of the club, can feel their eyes on the way she kisses Vanessa back, how her hands move from Vanessa’s hips, one lower to play with the hem of her skirt, the other higher to brush purposefully over Vanessa’s breast. 

 

She doesn’t blame them. She knows how good they look together, she knows how intoxicating a silhouette they make. 

 

Vanessa’s tongue is insistent against hers, greedy, and Charity returns the kiss with an equal desperation, savouring the way she feels Vanessa moan against her mouth when she throws whatever trace of self-control she has left to the side to slip her hand beneath Vanessa’s top, ridden free from her skirt, to cup Vanessa’s breast fully. 

 

Charity loves Vanessa like this, unrestrained and wild, unashamedly taking whatever she wants from a body that is only too happy to answer with a matched ferocity. She’s an unexpected equal in her hunger, and Charity has no problem feeding the dangerous appetite any chance she gets. 

 

“I want you,” Vanessa husks into her ear,  _ just _ audible amid the roar of noise around them, her tongue tracing Charity’s lobe, and Charity feels her own need double in response. 

 

“Right here, babe?” Charity teases, dragging the hem of the skirt higher, fingers ghosting over the rippling flesh of Vanessa’s inner thigh, and Charity thinks for a second that Vanessa might actually let it happen, in full sight of the crowd. 

 

She could just about get away with it, Charity thinks, casting a look around, if she was clever enough. If the crowd was a little thicker she wouldn’t be wasting time thinking, she’d already be busy  _ doing _ . The possessive, selfish part of her doesn’t want to share a drop of Vanessa with anyone else, though. That part wants Vanessa  _ all _ to herself. 

 

“Home,” Vanessa growls, shaking her head when Charity’s fingers pinch at her nipple beneath her bra. 

 

It seems a shame, because there’s something delicious about being almost voyeuristic with Vanessa here. About catching people looking away when she meets their eye, something about knowing that Vanessa is hers to touch, to kiss, and no one else’s. 

 

Charity’s lips find the overheated warmth of Vanessa’s neck when she tips her head back against Charity’s shoulder. She kisses the skin with little finesse, teeth scraping roughly, gratified when Vanessa grinds harder against her crotch. She’s not sure if she’ll make it home, eyeing up the bathroom across the club, whether she can abide by Vanessa’s half-moaned request and wait that long when the body against her bends so tantalisingly beneath her hands. 

 

It wouldn’t be hard to convince Vanessa to let Charity fuck her against the closed door of a stall while the bass on the other side of the door thumps heavily into her chest - another few minutes of teasing, maybe a little more - until Vanessa is desperate enough to forgo the privacy and the ride home.

 

Vanessa pulls Charity’s mouth to her own again, the wine still sweet on her tongue, the kiss growing dirtier by the second before Vanessa takes Charity’s bottom lip between her teeth. Her hand slips beneath Vanessa’s waistband in response, moving just below the line of lace before Vanessa’s hand catches it, quicker than Charity had anticipated. 

 

She raises an eyebrow in question as Vanessa turns in her arms, because Vanessa doesn’t pull Charity’s hand away like she’s expecting, she leads it deeper instead, using the cover of their now-facing bodies to hide the sight of Charity’s hand moving lower. 

 

Vanessa wraps the fingers of her other hand around the back of Charity’s neck, completely in control, her eyes finding Charity’s and focussing them in a way that completely obscures everything that isn’t her, until the overwhelming pounding of the music is little more than a distant hum around them. She pulls Charity’s mouth to her own, holding the eye contact as she leads Charity’s hand lower still,  _ against _ her, until Charity can feel  _ exactly _ how badly Vanessa wants her. 

 

“Home,” Vanessa whispers, so that Charity reads the words by the release of air and not the sound, teasing the tip of her tongue against Charity’s lip. 

 

“Take me home, Charity. Now.”

  
  


-

  
  


She gets Vanessa off for the first time in the cab on the way there. 

 

Vanessa protests a little, weakly pushing Charity’s hand away when Charity moves over into the middle seat, sliding her fingers up the inside of Vanessa’s thigh, but there’s no fight in it. Not at all. 

 

It’s dark, and their driver seems blissfully unaware, thank god, too busy talking to someone on his headset to notice the way Vanessa’s eyes flutter shut and she pushes back into the seat of the car hard when Charity’s fingers crawl higher and dip lower. 

 

She catches Vanessa’s moan in the curve of her neck, pulling her into a kiss just before she comes to smother the sound, glad she had the wherewithal to throw Vanessa’s coat over their laps, so at least it only looks like they’re having a dirty snog, and Charity isn’t  _ inside _ Vanessa as she tenses around her fingers. 

 

Charity has to half help her out of the taxi when they arrive outside Tug Ghyll, pushing a wad of bills into the driver’s hand before dragging Vanessa inside, her legs still a little wobbly from her release, her laugh melodic in Charity’s ears. 

 

“Not tonight, buttercup,” Charity says with a smirk, jerking Vanessa’s hand when she lines her back against the inside of the front door, intent on trying to seduce Charity right there. “Bed. Now, please.”

 

“I do like it when you’re bossy,” Vanessa purrs, peeling herself off of the wall, taking a few steps towards Charity in a way that makes her feel like shedding her human skin entirely, welcoming the wildness that Vanessa brings out so easily in her. 

 

“I know you do, babe,” Charity replies, dragging her forefinger up the line between Vanessa’s cleavage. “Almost as much as you like ignoring whatever I say to do what you bloody well like.”

 

“Only sometimes,” Vanessa says coyly, and Charity feels the blood flare in her veins at the look that crosses Vanessa’s face. 

 

“Only everytime,” Charity returns with an eye roll, turning her back but slipping her hand into Vanessa’s, leading her towards the stairs. “Unless it ruddy-well suits you.”

 

She feels a sharp tug on her hand then, enough that she turns back with the jerk of it, but she doesn’t haven’t time to find annoyance, not even for a second, because lust finds her first. Vanessa’s eyes are almost entirely black now, her shirt askew, and Charity isn’t sure she’s ever seen anything as beautiful, or as mouthwatering. 

 

“What about this?” Vanessa asks, each word laced with trouble, temptation written in every line of her body. “Do you think this’ll suit?”

 

“Depends,” Charity says with a growl, taking a step towards Vanessa like she’s stalking her prey. “On what kinda mood you’re in.”

 

She kisses Vanessa hard when they meet in the middle of the space between them, her hands grabbing Vanessa’s clothes with an almost madness in her haste to marry their lips. It’s addictive, the way Vanessa moans beneath her, the way her hands clutch at Charity with a perfectly equal fervour. 

 

“Maybe I’m in the mood to make you work for it a bit,” Vanessa says, pulling back quickly when Charity leans in to take another kiss. 

 

“Maybe I’m in the mood to make you wait,” Charity replies, her eyes gleaming - because two can play at this game, thank you very much. 

 

Vanessa must be able to see Charity’s challenge as clear as she’s issuing it, because she smiles deeply, self-satisfaction in her eyes before she pulls away without saying another word. She pushes past Charity towards the stairs but she grabs hold of Charity’s hand on the way as if to take Charity with her, and it sparks something quick and hot, like a struck match. 

 

She has Vanessa pinned against the wall at the foot of the stairs before she can even finish her breath, smiling when she feels the way Vanessa’s hitches against her chest. She slides a thigh between Vanessa’s, leaning forward heavily, and she knows how worked up Vanessa must be after the quick release in the taxi. She knows that this contact will be torture. She knows that it won’t  _ nearly _ be enough. 

 

“Who’s the bossy one now, then?” Charity asks, her own breath almost unrecognisable in its roughness, in its desperation. 

 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Vanessa says in reply, her gaze bold, refusing to break eye contact. 

 

“Oh, I do, babe,” Charity returns smoothly, sliding her hands around Vanessa’s waist, pinning her hands to the wall behind her. “I like it when you wriggle, as well.”

 

It’s a balance sometimes, walking this line between catharsis and triggering something deeply unwelcome, but Charity’s come to learn that everything she once dreaded shines with an entirely different light in Vanessa’s presence. Besides, she’s always enjoyed this part, in being the one whose muscles ripple with a rush of control. 

 

Vanessa pushes back against her hold, and she does a good job, coiling enough strength to almost throw Charity off, but she’s stronger than Vanessa is, has the height and the physicality of a job spent lugging barrels around, of a past spend hitting back too, and it doesn’t take her much to tense her own core and resist. She catches Vanessa’s eye quickly, only for a second, to make sure she’s not actually trying to get out of Charity’s grip, but there’s no frown in place, no panic, only wide eyes and a hungry,  _ hungry _ blush. 

 

So Charity leans with her weight against Vanessa, feels Vanessa’s body accept the added pressure, relaxing for a second in a way that Charity knows means that she’s going to try again, and Vanessa does, pushing harder this time, but still not enough for Charity to struggle in absorbing her effort into the smug line of her back.  

 

“Not much of a challenge, are you?” Charity husks to her, nipping at Vanessa’s lip, and it's ironic, the statement,  _ deeply _ so, because she’s never met someone who has challenged her more than Vanessa Woodfield has. 

 

She’s never met someone who challenged her in such different ways, not to be good per se - because Vanessa knows better than to try and turn her into something that she’s not - but to be  _ more _ . Vanessa pushes her to be more than her damage and more than her rage and more than her frustration. She challenges Charity, yes, and Charity loves her for it. 

 

Vanessa smiles then, like there’s some secret written on Charity’s skin that she can see as clear as day but Charity can’t, before she surges up, catching Charity’s lips against hers. They kiss deeply, animalistic in tone and taste, and Charity’s about to bark out a playfully derisory  _ is that all you’ve got, babe  _ before Vanessa does something else. 

 

Charity’s thigh is still between hers, and it’s hitching Vanessa’s skirt up now, well above her knees, and Vanessa leans into the friction while her tongue moves against Charity’s in a way that makes it  _ impossible _ to miss how much Vanessa wants her, how insistent the heat between her legs has become. It distracts Charity wholly, just for a second, but it’s enough that her hold slips, and Vanessa takes her chance the second she sees it. 

 

She pushes back, not enough that Charity stumbles but enough to put space between them so that Vanessa can be the one to take another step, of her own accord, and it makes Charity’s smile split across her face because Vanessa plays with power almost as well as she does sometimes. 

 

“Not much of a challenge, am I?” Vanessa asks, the smirk on her face success in physical form, and it makes Charity laugh, the smugness in Vanessa making her proud, so much so that her blood rings with it. “You really think so?”

 

“Think you’re that bloody clever, don’t you?” Charity questions hotly, taking the step slowly, so that Vanessa’s gaze drops to their feet to watch it. 

 

“I do, yeah,” Vanessa answers her, taking a fistful of Charity’s shirt, tugging her closer once Charity comes to meet her. 

 

“Wouldn’t keep you around if you weren’t, love. A challenge, I mean. No fun in that, is there?” Charity says, leaning in so her lips whisper against Vanessa’s. 

 

“And we all need a bit of  _ fun _ , don’t we,” Vanessa enunciates, giving the word another dimension entirely. 

 

“I dunno,” Charity replies casually, shrugging, taking her hands off Vanessa so she can take a step higher, curious to see how quickly Vanessa will follow her. “Have you been good enough for a bit of fun? Seems to me like you’re just being bad there, babe.”

 

“You love that, too,” Vanessa breathes, no,  _ husks _ in return, barely waiting a second before she meets Charity on the next step, not stopping, walking up the next, and then the next, her hand on the railing as she makes her way to the landing. 

 

“Yes,” Charity says, following Vanessa step for step, until they reach the top and Charity can wrap her arms around Vanessa’s shoulders and pull her close. “That I very well do.”

 

It’s more than a little satisfying, that someone as good and as pure as Vanessa follows her so easily,  _ wants _ to follow her so easily. It’s heavy, the power. It excites her. It’s  _ glorious _ . 

 

The kiss Vanessa gives her only makes that power swell, like a river about to break its banks, pushing at the edges dangerously, until Charity  _ snaps _ . She takes the next kiss, and Vanessa is only too willing to hand it over, her mouth, her whole body bending to accommodate Charity’s when she pushes forward. 

 

Her fingers tangle in Vanessa’s hair and her tongue moves hot and hungry over Vanessa’s own, and before Charity can even give her a seconds warning, Charity bends down, collecting Vanessa easily, wrapping her legs around her waist and carrying her to the bedroom. 

 

“Oof,  _ god _ you’re heavy,” Charity says, she’s only teasing, because Vanessa’s not, and she’d gladly carry this weight for days if it meant she could have Vanessa at the end of it. She stops against the wall next to her bedroom door, leaning her weight against Vanessa’s hips, grinning when Vanessa’s breath catches at the friction. 

 

“Shut up,” Vanessa growls against her lips, smiling too, squeezing her thighs tighter around Charity’s waist to accentuate her point. 

 

“No,” Charity breezes back, her heart thumping wild in her chest when Vanessa’s eyes darken in reply. 

 

“You’re stronger than you look,” Vanessa says, shifting herself higher when Charity hitches her up, squirming a little against Charity’s middle, and Charity readjusts her hold, palming Vanessa’s arse at the same time. 

 

“Like that, do you?” Charity asks a little smugly, and there’s a joke on the end of her tongue but she bites it back, because right now Vanessa looks more turned on than she has all night, and for once Charity is determined to shut her mouth and not ruin the moment. 

 

“I do actually. A lot,” Vanessa replies, and Charity stops in her tracks, not expecting such an open and effortless admission. It’s one of the things that has taken the most getting used to, just how easily Vanessa tells her exactly what she desperately wants to hear, and  _ means _ it. How there’s  _ never _ a price for them. How they’re  _ always _ a gift. 

 

It makes her pause, only for a second though, because she only wants Vanessa more now, how could she want anything less when Vanessa looks like  _ that _ . 

 

“Should I show you then?” Charity asks in a purr, peeling Vanessa away from the wall so she can walk her towards the bed instead. “Should I show you how strong I am?”

 

“Yes,” Vanessa replies, her breath a rush, her eyes fixed on Charity’s lips, like they had been before Charity had tasted her for the very first time. 

 

Charity can still feel the pounding of the bass in her chest from the club, or maybe that’s just how hard Vanessa makes her heart beat. She lets her shins hit the mattress before she leans down, dropping Vanessa when she’s about six inches above the bed, and she knows it’s a little cruel but Vanessa’s breath leaves her like it’s been stolen.

 

She looks up to Charity with a hard glare, a flash of annoyance, with fire peppered around the striking blue of her eyes.  _ Good _ , Charity thinks to herself. It’s how she likes Vanessa best after all, on the edge of snapping. On the brink of pushing Charity away. 

 

Charity leans back a little, her knee on the mattress between Vanessa’s thighs. She drags her nails down the skin presented in front of her - not gently - Vanessa’s gasp hitting her with a hot spike of desire between her own legs. She runs a soothing, soft touch over the scratch marks before Vanessa can complain though,  _ up, up, up, _ slipping her thumbs under the hem of Vanessa’s skirt, taking it with her when her hands creep higher. 

 

Vanessa is unsettled beneath her touch, hungry, lifting her hips so Charity can push the fabric up to bunch around her waist. She feels like her power is limitless like this, when Vanessa looks at her like she is right now, feels almost drunk with it.

 

“Christ, I just want to eat you alive,” Charity admits before she can help herself, leaning low, taking each of Vanessa’s forearms in her hands, pinning them to the bed as she straddles her.

 

“What’s stopping you?” Vanessa asks, struggling fruitlessly against Charity’s full weight, in a way that only makes Charity want her more. 

 

“Not a bloody thing,” Charity replies, her face splitting into a dangerous smirk. “I wanted you at that club, you know. Would have had you on the dance floor if I didn’t think you’d stop me. Or turn around and slap me for trying.”

 

“God, I would almost have let you, you know?” Vanessa offers, bucking her hips up when she can’t find any give against Charity’s hold anywhere else, and Charity feels the heat  _ flare _ again. She looks at Vanessa, her eyebrow raised, studying her face for the lie she’s trained herself to always look for, finding a half-truth before Vanessa admits the rest. “I said  _ almost _ .”

 

“I dunno, babe,” Charity drawls, leaning down, dragging her lips down the column of Vanessa’s neck, speaking to Vanessa’s pulse. “Do you really think you could have said no if I gave you a taste?”

 

“God, you’re full of it, aren’t you?” Vanessa barks with a laugh, but Charity knows full well she doesn’t mean it. 

 

She lifts one hand off of Vanessa’s to illustrate her point, and Vanessa reacts as soon as the restraint is removed, reaching for any part of Charity she can find, but Charity’s voice cuts through the silence of their bedroom instantly. 

 

“Don’t,” she says sharply, carefully, and Vanessa freezes in place. “Leave it there or I’ll stop.”

 

It’s completely unnecessary, she’s bloody burning for Vanessa to touch her if she’s honest with herself, wants nothing more than to have her hands  _ everywhere _ , but part of her wants to see whether Vanessa will listen. Whether, just once, she’ll submit. 

 

She thinks Vanessa is going to argue for a moment, true to form. Her mouth opens with the complaint, but it shuts almost instantly when her eyes find Charity’s, and Charity feels the rush of power in her acquiescence like a punch to the gut. 

 

Vanessa looks like she wants to murder Charity with her bare hands but she doesn’t move the one now completely unrestrained hand. Charity runs her fingers up the inside of Vanessa’s thigh as a reward, her touch far too light to be anything but maddening, and Vanessa squirms beneath her but she still doesn’t move her hand. 

 

“Finally,” Charity breathes with a smug grin, leaning down and kissing Vanessa  _ hard _ . “She listens.”

 

“She’s about to tell you to shove off,” Vanessa growls, but Charity knows it’s an empty threat. She’s not going anywhere. Neither of them are. 

 

“No, she’s not,” Charity says with a cocky self-assuredness. Her hands disappear under the minimal amount of Vanessa’s skirt still offering some limited decency, looping her fingers beneath the scrap of fabric Vanessa dares to call underwear, dragging them down to her knees. “She’s staying right here.”

 

Vanessa opens her mouth to argue but Charity beats her to vocalising anything, her fingers sliding between Vanessa’s legs, meeting a desire that makes Charity’s head spin. 

 

“Not a word,” Vanessa hisses when Charity groans at what she finds, her hand fisting desperately in the fabric of the covers. “Not a word, Charity.”

 

Vanessa is trying with an admirable determination to keep her cool, but Charity knows she’s a few seconds away from losing it completely. Vanessa has tells, subtle ones to be sure, but Charity’s spend enough time in her bed by now to know full well how to read them like a book. The fierceness in her voice is one, and the way she’s writhing beneath Charity like the bed is burning and she can’t let her skin rest on it is an easy second. 

 

“I’m not sayin’ a thing, babe,” Charity trills, the picture of innocence while her hand chases something altogether less pure. 

 

It’s tempting to hold it out of reach, what Vanessa wants - very tempting, in fact - but despite her words on the stairs, she doesn’t want to make Vanessa wait. Not this time, at least. 

 

Her dips her fingers low as her teeth nip at Vanessa’s jaw, and she’s waiting to feel a hand fist in her hair, to hold her there for a kiss, but it doesn’t come. Vanessa’s self-control remains impressively unbroken. Unfortunately.

 

So, naturally, Charity resigns to break it. 

 

Not by holding out though, by sheer inundation of pleasure instead. She wages a war across Vanessa’s neck, leaving the mess of a battle in her wake, bursts of violet and red that Vanessa will chastise her for come morning as her fingers push and pull and c u r l. She tracks a line between Vanessa’s breasts, the skin salty beneath her tongue, pushing the fabric of her top aside so she can mark the swell of them too. 

 

Vanessa responds so beautifully to it all, like Charity’s standing above her, conductor at the head of some dark, gorgeous orchestra, her back lifting, her body rising to Charity’s as her breathing breaks its regularity. 

 

_ That’s it,  _ Charity thinks as she drives harder, as she takes more, her mouth sucking hard over the faint pulse in Vanessa’s neck.  _ We’re almost there, aren’t we, Ness. We’re almost there.  _

 

Charity has always been one for saving the best for last, as much as she enjoys the instant gratification. It’s better that way, makes the winning richer, fills the hollowness in her chest for longer. Only there’s not so much of a hollow these days, it’s filled with  _ Vanessa _ instead. Soft mornings in bed together and late night arguments about whose turn it is to make the tea, and rich, rich kisses against the door to Tug Ghyll even when no one's watching to get a rise out of. 

 

Charity barely recognises herself these days, only the irony is that Vanessa sees more, knows more about who she is than anyone ever has before. She wonders if that’s what love is supposed to feel like. Watching the parts of you that kept you alive for so long fade, watching those muscles atrophy because they’re not in use anymore. Because they don’t have to be. 

 

Sometimes she feels powerless beneath the weight of her feelings for Vanessa, but she’s never felt more powerful either. 

 

Like now, she can feel it heavy in her veins, because she’s doing this, Vanessa is coming apart for her, and it’s not a game or a con, she’s not hiding the ugly parts of herself, only showing what she thinks Vanessa wants to see. Vanessa knows it all. Vanessa  _ loves _ it all. It’s intoxicating.  _ Vanessa _ is intoxicating. She’s overwhelming, and gorgeous, and Charity’s. All Charity’s.  _ Only _ Charity’s. 

 

Vanessa’s breath is thick next to Charity’s ear as she climbs Vanessa’s throat, smothering the skin with kisses, and it stops beautifully, everything does, when Charity plays her final hand. 

 

She draws back so she can whisper in Vanessa’s ear at the same time that she pushes in with  _ more _ , Vanessa groaning around the pressure of it, delivering the coup de grâce with a revered sigh. 

 

“I love you, Vanessa,” Charity breathes, as Vanessa comes, and the world falls apart. 

 

Vanessa’s unheld hand finds the back of her head, pulling her down and kissing Charity wholly, drawing a moan from some profound depth. She’s stolen thousands of quid before, swindled more, pulled off deceptions that would horrify any sane person, but the headiest victory she’s ever experienced is right here beneath her, hot and tight around her fingers. 

 

She keeps pushing, sending Vanessa’s release rippling outwards, glowing with pride when Vanessa breaks the kiss with a gasp as the second barrage hits. Her head tips back, throat exposed, and Charity doesn’t bother trying to smother the animal that yawns inside of her chest, she gives in, she sets her teeth against the innocent flesh instead. 

 

It’s not a gentle bite, it’ll probably still be there come the sunrise, but Charity doesn’t care. The world will know Vanessa is hers - what of it. She’s not stupid enough to think she won’t have a wound to match, the second she lets go of Vanessa’s other hand. 

 

The currently free one is at the top of her spine, curled around the back of her head, nails half-sunken in behind her hairline, but Charity takes the pain with thanks, resolves to make Vanessa do that somewhere visible next time. 

 

“I win,” Charity husks, loathe to remove her fingers. There’s a connection she finds here, in these moments when Vanessa’s breathing slows, that she’s never felt before. They feel joined,  _ one _ , and it’s terrifying and insane and stunning, all in the same breath. 

 

“Always a bloody competition with you, isn’t it,” Vanessa says with a breathy laugh, her grip softening, curving around so her thumb can rest on the line of Charity’s jaw. “Not a bad way to lose though, is it?”

 

“I don’t mean for it to be,” Charity answers, in a rare moment of self-contemplation when she takes her hand back, settling into Vanessa’s side, leaning up on her elbow. “A competition, I mean. Just habit, innit.”

 

She wonders if Vanessa will ever get sick of her knee-jerk reactions to things, like this. She wonders if it’ll ever be enough to make her leave, because Charity knows she can’t change some parts of her hardwiring, not that much. She prays that Vanessa won’t, every time they fight. When Vanessa thinks she’s stewing, she’s not, she’s on a bend bloody knee in her mind, pleading to whichever bastard is up there that’s ignored every other prayer she’s ever desperately made for one more chance,  _ please, just let her give me one more chance.   _

 

“I don’t mind, you know,” Vanessa offers, her eyes soft, in that way that used to make Charity squirm. “The competition. Not when you’re the prize, even when I don’t win the hand.”

 

The unbelievability of that has never left her, the shine hasn’t ever worn off, that Vanessa thinks she’s a prize. Not a trophy, not something to be possessed, but something to be treasured instead. She’s not sure it ever will, either. 

 

Charity knows what Vanessa is saying to her now, she’s getting good at this too - at saying things without speaking - because she knows sometimes Charity needs to hear things in different ways. She’s saying  _ it’s alright, these reflexes, these things you won’t ever shake. They’re a part of you too, and that’s ok.  _

 

She’s a bloody marvel, Vanessa Woodfield, and Charity’s not sure why it took her so flaming long to figure it out. She used to be so good at sniffing out anything valuable, but she missed this for years. Different riches, she supposes, the affection Vanessa has for her can’t be bought and paid for. She didn’t even know such a thing existed if she’s honest. She thought everyone had a price, but Vanessa doesn’t. Or Vanessa’s is different. Her price is Charity’s truth, the  _ real _ her, scars and all. 

 

_ It’s fitting _ , she thinks. It’s the thing that costs her more than anything else to reveal, after all. 

 

“Not a bad prize you are, either,” Charity admits, stealing a quick kiss, and she can hear the happiness in her own voice. Has to stop herself laughing at the sound of it. 

 

“You’re not half a fox though, are you?” Vanessa says, and Charity can feel the way Vanessa’s body changes beneath hers. She’s beginning to collect her strength. She’s ready to challenge Charity’s now relaxed grip on power again, only this time Charity has no intention of stopping her. “I might be like Pavlov’s bloody dogs with those three words, but it doesn’t mean I don’t know when I’m being played.”

 

“I wouldn’t  _ dream _ of playing you, babe,” Charity replies, her voice high with a mock-offence, so convincing she almost believes herself. 

 

“Of course you would,” Vanessa deadpans, smirking as she rises over Charity’s hips, straddling her. “Lucky I can read you like a book when you do.”

 

_ She’s a glorious mess like this _ , Charity thinks, her hands sliding over Vanessa’s hips to hold her in place - with smudged lipstick and hair askew - mouthwatering in the way she’s half-coming apart. Flawless in the way that Charity knows this is only for her. 

 

“You cannot,” Charity scoffs, but Vanessa’s right, Charity knows that she is. She won’t give the admission over easily though.  _ That _ she’ll make Vanessa work for. 

 

“I can. You know I can. To think, after all this time, the thing that finally brings Charity Dingle to her knees, is this,” Vanessa says, popping the buttons of Charity’s shirt open, one by one. “One. Little. Blonde.”

 

It takes some measure of inhuman strength not to let her breath catch every time Vanessa’s fingers brush the sensitive skin between her breasts. She bites her lip and grits her teeth, determined to keep some modicum of self-respect. For a minute or two, at least. 

 

“To my knees?” Charity asks, half impressed by Vanessa’s audacity. “I think we need to work on your modesty, babe. Certainly think a lot of yourself, don’t you? I’m not on them now after all, am I?” 

 

“No, you’re on your  _ back _ , now,” Vanessa announces boldly, shifting her weight to one side so she can slide the zip down Charity’s right side, pulling her skirt off completely in the same movement. “Same difference.”

 

“Not quite, and you know it,” Charity argues, catching Vanessa’s thumb between her teeth when she runs it across her lower lip, more than aware of the feeling of her now bare skin against Vanessa’s, kicking herself for not taking Vanessa’s skirt off properly before. 

 

“What if I asked nicely?” Vanessa questions, her voice sing-song in its sweetness, the way it is when she occasionally wants something Charity’s not overly willing to give. “Would you get on your knees, then?”

 

The irony of it is wonderful, that Vanessa thinks she has to talk Charity around to anything. She pretends to take a minute to contemplate it, her gaze playful, insatiable. The truth of it is that she’d do anything for Vanessa if she asked. She wonders whether Vanessa knows that yet. 

 

“If you’re lucky,” Charity says, and the way Vanessa smiles makes it worth it, it makes almost everything worth it, actually. She didn’t know she was capable of making people feel actual joy until Vanessa. Synthetic joy, a sexual high, bought intimacy, sure, but not this. Not happiness this pure. 

 

“Luckier, you mean,” Vanessa replies, the hunger retreating for a flash, rolling back for a second, just long enough for Charity to see the warmth, to see the true affection in Vanessa’s eyes. 

 

Charity used to think love was for fools. Now she’s not so sure. Or maybe she’s a fool herself. Maybe she doesn’t care. 

 

“Anything else you’d like to demand, Miss Woodfield?” Charity asks, running her hands up Vanessa’s spine, one chasing the other like they’re falling into line. “Anything else you’d have of me, while you’re at it?”

 

_ Ask me for everything _ , Charity thinks, lifting Vanessa’s shirt up as her hands trace the line of her vertebrae, pulling it off and over her head before leading Vanessa’s mouth down to hers and indulging the overwhelming urge to kiss Vanessa until neither of them can breathe.  _ See how much I’ll give.  _

 

“I can think of a thing or two,” Vanessa pants, her breath hot against Charity’s lips, her hands scorching against Charity’s stomach, moving down, down,  _ down _ . 

 

“Go on then,” Charity says, and she can taste the ash on her tongue like the words are already aflame. She feels inhuman in Vanessa’s hands, pyrokinetic, like they could set the world on fire if they wanted. 

 

“Whisper them into my ear, Ness. We’ll see how lucky you really are.”

  
  


-

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://tigerlo.tumblr.com) and I post little vanity mini-things there from time to time that aren't long with to do anything else with, come check them out if you'd like.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'll hope there's reception down here... oh, look a bbq...
> 
> xx


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